


Dearest Belonging

by AisdaMira13



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Consensual Nonconsensual Sex, Double Penetration, F/M, Humiliation, Infidelity Play, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Partner sharing, Phone Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisdaMira13/pseuds/AisdaMira13
Summary: You and Steve have been dating for a while but Bucky has always caught your eye. You tell Steve but you can't tell what his reaction means. Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend tells his best friend Bucky to have his way with you...up to a point. But will you push past that point and commit infidelity? Or is there more to this venture than you know?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoarding my works depending on interest. Please let me know your thoughts! Good reading :)

Steve had never said no to any fantasy you had presented in the eight months you had been together: role-playing, daring acts in public bathrooms, voyeurism, or even light BDSM – not one. But when you had mentioned your growing desire for his best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, he had hesitated. No, froze was more what he did; you immediately regretted your words.

“I’m so sorry, Steve! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He sat quietly for a minute; you grew anxious. “What exactly is it about him?”

That was a loaded question. Where to begin? “His face, his smile, his height…?” you offered.

Steve gave you a sideways glance. “You can do better than that.”

You thought harder. “I love the way his masculinity washes over me when I stand next to him in the elevator – it’s intoxicating; his musk fills my senses and I forget where I’m standing. Whenever he speaks to me, his voice is seduction itself; his eyes stare straight through me. He commands respect and submission without asking for it and I long to feel his power and submit to him.”

Silence hung between you. You twiddled your thumbs, stared at the floor, feeling embarrassed for being honest. It was better if Steve knew; your self-control was waning with every passing day. Maybe this would help alleviate your pent up tension. _Maybe_.

Looking to your boyfriend, you saw his brow furrow and his mouth crack a smile, but his eyes didn't. “Okay.” He stood up from your bed and kissed your forehead, leaving the apartment without a word.

 _Fuck_.

You immediately called Nat for advice. She’d been around the block once or twice; surely this isn’t that far out of a situation for her to have experienced.

Filling her in, you waited for her wisdom. “So you wanna bang Barnes, huh?” No wisdom came. “Can’t say I blame you – I would’ve tapped that during my time in Soviet Russia given the chance. Let me know how it is!”

“…This is your advice? To fuck James?” You rolled your eyes.

“Well… Maybe just grab his dick a little bit and suck on his tongue – nothing too extreme.”

Good God. “You are the worst person to have called. You have helped nothing.”

“You didn’t want my help. Sounded like your ovaries had already made that decision for you.”

This was not untrue. “I’m hanging up. I’ve upset my boyfriend and made him feel dejected – I’m going to wallow alone in self-pity.”

Nat laughed. “Whatever. Rub one out to Buck for me.”

You took her advice.

The stress of this situation, the uncertainty of Steve’s reaction, your fucking goddamn overwhelming need for Bucky to walk through the door of your apartment and fuck you into tears. There was only one way to take care of this.

You crawled higher onto your bed and rubbed your eyes. Shame had never been a feeling you held onto for long. This was so hard. You loved Steve but… Your desire to be humiliated was something else that surged through you. Bucky wouldn’t treat you like he loved you. He’d fuck you like the whore you wanted to be treated as.

Rolling onto your stomach, you imagined how amazing it would feel to have the weight of James’ body on top of you. He’d grab you by your hair and pin you against the mattress, caressing your heat through your panties. Running your fingers through your hair, you pulled and tugged with strength you wished came from someone else, a dark and mysterious someone else.

“Mmm, James,” you moaned.

“You like being my slut, don’t you? You’re dripping and I’ve barely begun. You’ll come undone as soon as my dick even enters you.”

“Oh God, yes please!” Your hand dipped underneath the hem of your undies. Your fingers grazed your clitoris and you purred with anticipation of the action you knew would never come.

His breath would be hot on your neck, his power bearing down on you. Thrusting two fingers in your opening, you mewled as Bucky bit and kissed your neck; so contrary to the heartless demeanor that he longer the fuck you with. “You’ll come even before I fuck you.”

 _No no!_ This was bad – this wasn’t helping. You pulled your fingers out and opened your eyes. This wasn’t fair to Steve.

“Fuck!” you screamed into your pillow. Your labia still pulsed with heat and moisture, making you hate this situation even more.

It was just past one p.m. Had Steven left at ten? Where had the time gone?

Pulling your shorts back on, you stood and walked over to your dresser, checking your phone: nothing.

You may have lived separately – him in the Stark Tower, you in an upper eastside flat – but you hadn’t gone more than two hours without communicating, ever. Was he upset, was he breaking up with you? Why had he not said anything to you?

Then a knock came to your door, loud and resounding. _Steve?_

You bounded to the door and pulled it open. The second most desirable, tangible hunk of man you had ever laid eyes on stood before you, outside your apartment, with a bottle of wine and two DVDs in his hands. “Bucky?”

“Can I come in?” He was smirking at you, that devilish grin sent a shiver down your spine.

“Uh…sure.”

You closed the door behind him, his cologne filling your nose, his presence making the heat between your legs grow even slicker. Grabbing your phone you sent Steve a text message. **Why would I see James before I see you? Am I in trouble? Call me.**

Bucky walked straight to the kitchen, rummaging through your cabinets, presumably for wine glasses. “So… Heard from Steve yet?” The cork popped and you turned to look at Bucky. His shirt was grey, short-sleeved, tight, and form fitting. You had never known him to wear short sleeves so openly because of his metallic arm but he needed to. Such musculature did not deserve to be hidden from the world.

“No. Did he send you to deliver a message?”

His smile filled you with something you could not place that mitigated your feelings of anger about your situation. _Sexy bastard._ “Of sorts.” He poured two glasses and brought them over, placing himself on the opposite side of the couch, he handed you a glass. You took the glass and sipped gingerly. “He’s away on a mission.”

“A mission? Why didn't he tell me!” you almost shrieked.

“It was last minute – he didn’t want you to worry. And, subsequently, yes, he did send me to check up on you.”

“How kind of him.” You snort. “And you are such a good best friend you bring wine for your bestie’s girl? If I weren’t so trusting, I’d think you were trying to woe me.” Flirting. That had taken zero seconds.

His velvet laughter caressed your body and you closed your eyes at the sound. “Hardly. I’m just trying to make sure you’re relaxed and unworried.” Bucky held up two movies: it looked like a choice between _Interview With A Vampire_ or the second _Pirates of the Caribbean_. Choices. “Which movie did you want to watch first?”

“ _Pirates_?”

Bucky walked to the DVD player and put in the movie. You marveled at his quads through his jeans, strength of his legs unhidden by denim. Drifting to darker places, you imagined the feeling of power his thrusts would wreak upon your body, the bulk of between your legs, his penis…

“Did you hear me?” Bucky stood in front of the TV with his hands palm-up. You gave him a blank stare. “Where’s the remote?”

Both of you looked around. “I see it,” he says, and eyes a spot over your shoulder.

Bucky stalked towards you, reaching for the remote on the table behind you. He almost straddled you, his chest inches from your face, his shirt riding up exposing his abs and treasure trail that you wanted to lick. The crease of his jeans about his package was the most delectable thing you had seen in hours and you longed to reach out for it and caress him through his jeans.

He then plopped down next to you, remote in hand, legs crossed, his knees touching your knees; you tensed. Why was he so close? His closeness began to feed the pit in your stomach, your vagina pulsing back to life. Taking another drink of wine, you tried to calm your nerves.

You had no idea how long the movie had been going for but you shifted uncomfortably, the wetness in your panties never truly had gone away with your object of obsession so near, so tangible. His knees had never moved away from you, and you could never make yourself small enough to sink into the couch.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was low and rumbled through the couch to your spine.

“Yes.”

“What were you thinking about before I showed up?”

You froze. Why would he ask that? Could he – ? _No._ Was your essence seeping through your clothing? You pulled your shirt down further to cover your shorts. Could he smell your arousal? Your cheeks would’ve made the reddest roses jealous.

“I, uh – What do you mean?”

He turned to look at you then, pausing the movie. There was no other noise aside from your heartbeat and your breathing. “Were you touching yourself?”

You would’ve choked from surprise, if you hadn’t already forgotten to breathe. Toying with the end of your shirt, you closed your legs firmly and looked down. Why was he asking? Why was he doing this? You did not answer.

“Look at me.” His voice was firm, deep, and seducing. You let it wash over you, steadying your mind before acquiescing.

Bucky’s dark eyes looked right at you, direct and unflinching. “What were you thinking about before I showed up?”

You swallowed. “…You.”

Only a slight twitch in his eyebrow told of his surprise. “Were you touching yourself?” he continued, unfazed by your anxiety.

You could only bring yourself to nod in response, never breaking eye contact. He was challenging you and you were too weak-willed to not obey.

“Did you finish?”

Silence. “No.” He didn’t react.

“Show me what you were doing before you stopped. Tell me what you were thinking, _exactly._ ”

No. This was not happening. You were dating Steve, and yet his best friend was asking you to – you close your eyes – masturbate…for him. This was everything you had wanted for three months. How did it feel so _right_?

“Now!”

You sat up straight at his order, slipping your shorts onto the floor. Bucky had positioned himself in the opposing corner of the couch, spreading himself out, taking a swig of wine. Resting against the armrest, you lowered yourself to an angle to expose your underwear that was undoubtedly dampening with every passing second.

You see Bucky’s eyes flick down to your most intimate area and lick his lips. “Show me.”

Removing your underwear, you took a modest pose and pulled your shirt back down once more. _Dear God, this man_. How did he make you succumb to him so effortlessly? You were ready and willing to commit to all of his requests, obey all of his commands, and let him have his way with you.

Bucky _tsk_ ed at you, shaking his head; his eyes dark. “Spread them.”

Placing one foot on the ground and the other leg over the back of the couch, you spread yourself wide for Bucky with your fingers. The growl has resonated from within him filled the depths of your stomach. The sound spurred you toward the place you had found earlier before you had stopped. Taking your middle and index finger, you drew circles around your clitoris, gasping at the dampness.

You pulled at your hair and bit your lip. The heat resonating from your body was unmistakable in the calm air of the living room. Slowing your breathing had never been so difficult. You wanted to feel Bucky’s hands on you more than you needed to breathe

“Share your fantasy with me. Every detail.”

To have the man you lusted after telling you to divulge your desires filled you with – was that fear that rippled through you, trepidation? You admitted to your boyfriend your fantasies about Bucky, but now that the man was here… You shook your head and refused to speak.

Bucky spoke your name, in a tone that you had never even thought of in your darkest fantasies. You would never admit that you whimpered, but you did. He looked right at you with a lust that sent immediately to your soul. What kept you from lunging across the couch and covering Bucky with your body must have been some sort of supernatural power because you would do anything for him right now, anything except…

“Every. Detail.” He uttered your name again and rubbed his bulge. “From the beginning.”

Oh god. How did he look so amazing? The brawniness of his stature, the subtlety of his virility – you could drown in his presence and die a happy maiden. Bucky traced his lips with his tongue; you followed his movement and wondered what wonders his mouth could work on your pussy. You had never stopped your finger’s work on your folds but you had to close your eyes; Bucky could not see the honest desire in your eyes, he already had too much power.

“I – uh,” you swallowed, “think about you fondling me in plain view of Steve sometimes, whenever we are all together. Stealing nips and bites when he’s not looking. You would whisper in my ear about how much you’d want to fuck me form behind with Steve in the same room, totally unaware…”

Bucky growled somewhere deep in the back of his throat. You breathe out a breathy gasp as your hands graze your clit. You have never been so turned on in your life and your head is spinning. He palmed his erection in an effort for some release. Even in the dark, you could see his metal arm reflect the light from the TV as he gripped the back of the couch, to keeping himself back from you, to restrain himself. “Go on.”

“You would bend me over the counter and tease me into a gooey mess. Steve can’t hear me moan your name because the TV is too loud…” You added a finger to your aching folds; your cunt was dripping in a mass of needs. “Calling me your whore, grabbing my throat with your metal arm and squeeze firmly, you’d enter me with no preparation.”

That sound seemed so guttural as it was emitted from the mouth of a man who was unraveling before your eyes at your own admission.

“Tell me what you want from me.”

A moan escaped your lips. “I want you to claim me, to pull my hair and hold me down and fuck me; to mark me with your hands and caress me with your palms. I long to have you bite my neck until I bruise, and call me a whore. I need you to touch me and feel me come around you when you’re fucking me.”

He was leaning closer to you but still gripping the couch for stability. “What would you have me do, doll?”

“Please, James, I need you to touch me…”

Hunger, need, and longing seemed from the dark mass of vigor that was Bucky. “Would you let me taste it?” His voice was predatory.

“Yes, please, please!” you pleaded to the air.

Bucky moved across the couch and onto the floor to his knees in one fluid motion. Kicking your coffee table out of the way, he pulled you toward him in one swift jerk, placing your legs on his shoulders; he immediately tongued your folds, licking your foundation of arousal.

You mewled at his eagerness, tugging at your shirt. His tongue was adept at exploring you, never missing the most sensitive areas of your folds. Bucky was deliberate in all his actions, listening and responding to you in a way you had never experienced.

“James, I can’t – you are _amazing!_ “ you breathed. You could have sworn you felt his smirk against your flesh.

Grabbing a handful of hair, you reluctantly pulled that delectable mouth from between your legs. The look that Bucky gave you went straight to your ovaries. His mouth hung open, your essence glistening on his chin, his eyes hooded and lusty; his tongue darted out to dance a circle about his redden lips.

“Don’t get cocky, Barnes. You’ll have to make me come before I give you any more accolades,” you warned.

Bucky nipped at your inner thigh and kneaded your legs. “You’ll be screaming my name before I am through with you, doll – that I promise.”

Bucky went back to devouring you like you were the finest dish he had ever tasted. He moved you up and closer to him, his lips taking care to caress your folds with care between the unrelenting assault of his tongue. You kept your hands attached to the armrest, fearing that if you let them free, you could not be held responsible for your actions.

“James, I-I’m going to c-come, don't – ah!”

He didn't stop; he picked up his ministrations, rubbing your legs with the palms his hands, the chill of the metal feeling cool against your hot flesh. You look down at his face and could have come just form the look of hunger in his eyes. Bucky gave your ass a firm smack and growled as you ground your clitoris against his tongue.

You could not focus on anything anymore, the sensation you had sought earlier but veered away from was swelling your senses and you knew you were close. Feeling your climax nearing, Bucky heightened his attention on your clitoris, adding two metal fingers to your cunt that longed for something bigger. Your walls clamped down against his fingers, and you began to shake uncontrollably.

Opening your eyes from having them shut to tight, he dared you to come with one look, and you were more than happy to oblige Bucky hummed against you, sending his encouragement as he finger-fucked you to orgasm.

“Nggh, fuck!” You screamed with release. “James, I – “

Bucky covered your mouth with his, fingers still moving in you. The taste of yourself on his lips somehow calmed your nerves and returned you to reality. You responded with the fervor that he had devoured you with in the kiss, but nipped and bit at his lips, an action that his groan let you know he more than approved off.

Removing his fingers from you, Bucky wiped his mouth and licked his fingers clean of your juices. It was the second image you would never forget.

“You called me James.”

Your mind was still buzzing. “I’m sorry?”

“You called me James. You’ve never done that before.” He took a sip of wine and resumed the movie at a quieter volume.

You stared back at the TV, watching the movie that you had long since forgotten about. “Does it bother you?”

Bucky shook his head, taking another sip of wine. “You could call me God for all I care, as long as you moan it like that.”

Had there been any more embarrassment left in your body, it shone bright in your cheeks you were certain.

You kept quiet for the rest of the movie but continued to drink your wine. It reached a point where you were no longer sure if you were drinking slow or if the wine glass kept refilling itself. Soon the world began to spin sometime through the middle of _Interview With A Vampire_. _Oh no_.

“Could you help me to bed?” you asked Bucky, who you were pretty sure had not drank as much as you. “I’m getting the spins.”

Bucky rose to his feet and pulled you to yours. “I’ll get you some water and walk you to bed. Just breathe.” You complied and waited for him to return from the kitchen with your drink.

You leaned on him almost immediately and sucked the water down. With unceremonious grace, you flung yourself onto your feather-own duvet and quickly climbed underneath once you made it to bed. Bucky moved to shut your light off when you made a sound for him to stop; he looked at you.

“Will you stay tonight? If Steve’s not coming back, I don’t like being alone…”

“Of course, I will sleep on the couch if you need me.”

Darkness and fuzzy thoughts covered your mind’s eye. All you could do was nod and mumble “thank you” as you began to lose consciousness.

~~~~

Bucky walked away from the bedroom and sat down on the couch. He glanced at the damp spot you had left behind on the couch and felt his dick harden once again. Those moans, calling him James… Bucky could not remember the last time he had been so ready to fuck someone in his life. _Fucking hell_.

Steve had not mentioned to him anything about your effortless allure and sexual prowess. “Just get her riled up” had been what he had said. “See how far she’ll let you go.” Something told Bucky that had he could’ve had his way with you if he had less self-control; he had been seconds from fucking you senseless.

Searching for his phone, he stopped the recording that his best friend had asked him to make. He sent it to Steve with a smiley emoticon and the words ‘ _Enjoy, Captain_.’ Meanwhile Bucky had to take care of himself. If he was meant to stay with you for two days while his best friend was away, he needed to keep in a clear head. In more than one way.

~~~~


	2. Chaper Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have stopped by, given kudos, or bookmarked this story!! This is for you <3

Steve was not always in the best cell receptions areas when away on work; he also almost never kept his personal cell phone on him but this time was different. He did have his phone; he was expecting a message. Finding himself sitting in a safe house in Belgium, he waited for the time to pass. Then his phone beeped.

He looked at his phone and unlocked it. The message from his best friend came first. “ **Enjoy Captain :)** ”.

Then, the video loaded.

Steve would have been lying if he did not immediately feel a surge of blood rush to his dick. He saw you and his best friend sitting on your couch. Skimming through the first several minutes of movie watching, he fast-forwarded until he saw Bucky’s mouth moving. The sound was quiet so he plugged in a pair of headphones and raised the volume.

_“What were you thinking about before I showed up?”_

Your boyfriend watched your nervousness and could feel your guilt at being caught through the screen. You must have been masturbating and thinking about Bucky, you had no reason to look so guilty otherwise. _“You.”_ Yes, of course he was right.

_“I – uh,” he saw you swallow, “think about you fondling me in plain view of Steve sometimes, whenever we are all together. Stealing nips and bites when he’s not looking. You would whisper in my ear about how much you’d want to fuck me form behind with Steve in the same room, totally unaware…”_

Steve watched you talk and confess your desire directly to James with an impressive calm that he did not expect from you. He listened to you share your intimate wants with his best friend with a surprising ease that was not met with jealousy or insecurity; rather he was overwhelmed with desire and a need to let his best friend have his way with you.

Steve’s dick got steadily harder. He adjusted his penis in his pants and breathed to calm himself. Your words came through the video loud and clear and he almost came in his pants from the huskiness in your voice. _“…bend me over the counter and tease me into a gooey mess. Steve can’t hear me moan your name because the TV is too loud…”_ Yes, your boyfriend could make that happen for you. He could let his best friend finger-fuck you in the kitchen while he feigned ignorance, stroking himself to completion knowing you’d be getting fucked like a whore behind him.

The sudden sound of Bucky kicking the coffee table out of the way jerked Steve mind back to the video. He had the perfect view of you as Bucky repositioned you, placing your legs over his shoulders. God, you looked amazing. So eager and willing for the tongue-fucking that you so clearly wanted.

Taking out his dick, the Captain began to stroke himself to the thought of you. He’d let you fuck his best friend but not yet, not yet. You wanted to be treated like a whore, to have Bucky choke and be rough with you, and that could be arranged. He gripped his dick firmly and stroked himself closer and closer to the edge.

_“James, I-I’m going to c-come, don't – ah!”_

The familiar sound of you coming in ecstasy sent your boyfriend over the edge, spilling himself onto his pants and the floor. He growled as he finished, biting his lips at the missing sensation of your pussy squeezing his member. “God-fucking-damnit,” he breathed as he shook.

Captain America look at his soiled pants and sighed in the dark emptiness of the apartment. He closed the video and made his way to the bathroom to clean himself off, taking his phone with him.

Thank God it was only 0900 and he did not need to head out until 1300 hours. The imagery and incessant replaying of what he had seen might have distracted him to death if he did not have time to calm himself.

 **There better be more of those videos by the time I get back**.

Almost immediately his phone chimed in response. ‘ **Wish granted** ’ read Bucky’s message. Steve might have chuckled if his member wasn't still pulsing and raring for more excitement despite its exhaustion. _This mission just got exceedingly longer_ , he thought to himself.

Bucky better not fuck this up.

~~~~

You woke sometime in the late afternoon with dry mouth and unclear memories of last night. Squinting against the light of day, you looked from your bed across your studio apartment and saw the couch empty. You heard water running from the bathroom down the hall and you knew Bucky must have been in the shower. Wait. Bucky?

Racking your brain, you tried to remember what the fuck had happened last night. Steve wasn't home, Bucky had come by, you had a little wine and… Holy God. What transpired between you replayed in your mind. Bucky’s tongue, his mouth, his _everything_ , had taken you to a place of unbridled bliss that you had never realized existed before last night. It had been undoubtedly amazing.

You buried your face in your hands. What did this mean for you and Steve? What had come over you! James Buchanan Barnes had come over you, or you had come on _him_ , rather. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the recollection of your wanton behavior. You had never thought you’d ever live through a situation even remotely similar to this: your best friend’s boyfriend having seduced you and ate you out on your couch.

There were no emotions to describe what you were feeling; you weren’t even sure if a name for those feelings existed.

The water shut off and you did then feel panic. How would you deal with this situation; how would you talk about it? Would you even talk about it? You think about Bucky’s command of the situation last night and you cannot begin to image how he’d react to seeing you the next day after devouring you.

Not wanting to deal with the responsibility of staring into the disgustingly gorgeous face of the indiscretion, you chose to feign sleep.

The floor creaked with the sound of movement and your mind imagined what Bucky was doing. Your lady parts purred to life at the thought of him coming out of the shower, dripping wet, towel hung low on his hips. He was probably running his fingers through his damp hair, making him look like some 1950’s pin-up boy, if those had ever existed. A stray bead of water would drift from his neck, down his chest, to the edge of the towel that held that darkest mystery of this whole man.

 _Mmm_.

You could not help but bite your lip.

He moved through the kitchen from what you could hear, checking the fridge for something. He closed the door and moved back to the couch, the rustling of the fabric adjusting to his weight. You dared to take a peak and saw him dressing himself. His quads were just as muscular as you had imagined, so alluring and powerful. That was to say nothing of his derriere and all of the rest of his perfectly sculpted body. He was the work of God, molded in perfection, second only to Captain America.

Bucky stood from the couch and pulled his shirt over himself. You closed your eyes as he glanced toward your direction. In the sleepiest way you could manage, you pulled the blankets of your bed to cover more of your body. Heavy-footed steps made their way toward you and you prayed to all gods past and present to give you the strength to look relaxed and asleep.

The smell of prowess and arousal filled your nostrils as he neared your bed. You hoped the sentiment of confusion did not contort your face as you felt his place his arms on either side of you and leaned down. For seconds that felt like an eternity, you waited while he hovered. The pressure on the bed shifted and you felt his breath on your neck.

A delicate touch of fingers then moved the stray hairs from your face, and then you felt what was unmistakably lips caress the outer shell of your ear lightly. Your involuntary shiver went straight to your ovaries and you almost sighed aloud at the sensation.

“I will fuck you by the end of the week, doll, you have my word.” The predatory tone from the night before came from lips that you hadn’t tasted but longed to. Teeth grazed your skin and trailed ever-so-slightly down your neck; you could barely hold yourself back from moaning. Instead, you cooed in response.

The door to the apartment opened and closed and you finally released the breath you had been holding, almost hyperventilating at the influx of air.

This situation was even more treacherous than you had conjectured.

Bucky wanted to fuck you.

Apparently by the end of the week, which would have been fine if you were single but you know… _You weren’t._

You needed a fresh start in as many ways as possible, and today was the best time for it. This could not be dealt with while the evidence of your infidelity still resided inside of your underwear. You needed to shower, to eat breakfast, and to decompress. Whatever that meant in this life of yours.

The shower could not come soon enough; it was like the scalding heat washed away everything you had done in the last twenty-four hours. Keeping your inner peace from falling out of your ass, you focused on clearing your mind and holding onto some sort internal calm. At least, that was what you were aiming for.

Some part of you was not having any portion of this inner piece non-sense, however. Flashes of Bucky naked and fucking horny, with the echo of the words he whispered in your ear from earlier, popped up like uncontrolled weeds – no amount of soap could wash this from your brain. You would be lying if you dared to think you were not interested in figuring out the depth of Bucky’s depravity toward you.

So intriguing, he was, to show up unannounced with a bottle of wine and a heightened libido. A part of you was unsettled at his arrival last night, perhaps because you were expecting your boyfriend. The gift was wine was nice but how had he known what your two favorite movies were? Wait. You were thinking too much.

Bucky did not show up with a plan to seduce you – no matter how much that might please you – he came over as a best friend of your boyfriend to appease ta request and perhaps do damage control. That was all. Regardless of how out of hand and, ironically, how much more damage his presence – no, his _existence_ – caused you, this situation was entirely on you.

“Nice job, self,” you chided, “you are a complete twat.”

You turned off the shower, got out, and brushed your teeth. It felt so nice to be clean. Walking form the bathroom to your boudoir, you stepped lightly to minimize the excess water that dripped off your body.

“So…” The unmistakable sound of that dangerously sexy human being who has plagued your mind for the last few months halted you in your tracks.

You folded your arms across your towel, praying to God that it stayed in your time of needing to be brave. Brave and serious…er, something. “So…” Turning to face your antagonist, you watched as he put food away into your fridge and cupboards. _Bucky went grocery shopping?_

“Steve won’t be back tomorrow. He’ll be postponed a day. He asked me to stay with you until he comes back.”

_Fuck._

How could this situation get any worse? Was Bucky supposed to stay here until Steve got back? What would Steve do if he knew what his best friend was up to? You had no answers to the never-ending amount of surging questions that banged and bounded in your mind.

“Which means,” Bucky licked stray condensation of his wrist clean and you watched his tongue, wishing it were working its magic somewhere else, “we have time to address your etiquette.”

“My etiquette?” You had smacked others for less.

“You did not thank me properly for last night.”

Holy shit. “The fuck are you talking about?”

He smirked at you. “Mouth, doll. Should be put that to better use.”

Sweet mother of God, this man had no off-switch. The imagery of what his words signified made your stomach flip-flop. You had never doubted your skill in the art of fellatio but the thought of doing that to Bucky somehow made you nervous.

“Fat chance. My mouth doesn't belong to you.”

Like a panther closing in on its pray, Bucky rested his hands on either side of the kitchen table, the sizeable piece of furniture somehow managed to be dwarfed by his stature, a dangerous smirk playing across his face. “It will. Soon.”

This was not a game you could win. You said nothing and instead glowered at Bucky. God, did you ever want to smack that smug ass look of his face. Just once you’d like to see him speechless. Hell would be more likely to freeze over.

Bucky spoke your name, rousing you from your thoughts. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out to lunch.”

 _Huh?_ “Did you not just not buy groceries?”

“That’s for dinner. Clothing. Now.”

Somehow you had managed to be talked into attending a lovely little Italian restaurant that had a waiting list longer than a phone book. A private booth somewhere toward the back of the restaurant in the annex had been selected for you through the courtesy of a reservation. You thought nothing of it.

The waitress came and you immediately ordered a mimosa.

Bucky raised his brow at you. “Are you sure that is a safe choice?”

“Depends… Are you going to seduce me and eat me out from underneath the table?” Your crass words surprised even you.

His velvety laughter came over you like a wave of warm ocean air. He set the menu down and stared straight at you with an intensity that brought every sentiment of arousal and insecurity bubbling from the depths of your soul. “Only if you would like me to.”

It was in that instant that you realized how incredibly isolated you were from any human body in the restaurant, save the waitress who returned just in time with your beverage.

Bucky ordered an appetizer and both of your meals. You were grateful to not have to speak because you had all of your confidence drained in the strength of your voice with _one look_. You took a swig of your drink, noting the lack of champagne. Cheap jerks. Could they not see you desperately needed to relax?

Your name never sounded so good drifting off any tongue as it did right then from Bucky. “Yes?”

“Etiquette. Shall we begin?”

You paled. _In the restaurant?_

Bucky slid closer to you and placed his right arm behind you on the top of the booth. His metal arm tipped your chin toward him, his eyes suddenly overcome with a look of hunger and lust. “First rule,” he traced your lips with his thumb, the cool steel amazingly smooth against your skin, “you make eye contact with me whenever I look at you.”

You swallowed, hopefully not audibly, doing your best to adhere to Bucky’s first command. Your willing submission in this situation was the first time you had ever complied when you felt you were the underdog. Now you had never had a problem with authority, but you were not overly fond of it. This, however, _was what you wanted._

“There,” he almost purred at your obedience, “not so hard is it?” Maintaining eye contact, you shook your head. “Second rule, you never hide your reactions from me. You show me exactly what I do to you.”

He snaked his right arm around your back and down the backside of your pants, grabbing and kneading your ass firmly. Bucky attacked your neck with his lips and you had to bite down on whatever resistance you had left to keep from mewling in excitement.

“Uh-uh,” — he moved his hand from your butt to your breast, usurping the bra to cup your chest fully, “I said _exactly_ what I do to you.”

An automatic shiver coursed through your body, to your very bones, and you let out a breathy sigh. “Bucky, we – _mmm_.” You bit your tongue.

“Third rule, you call me James.”

“ _James._ ” The heat in your panties made you feel the urge to rut against something, making you moan in disappointment at a lack of contact where you needed it most. You gripped the table to keep your body stable, like the table was your only foundation and connection to the world at large.

Bucky’s mouth worked against your flesh, kneading it gently between his teeth. His breath was hot on your neck and you stifled another moan. His left hand crept toward the crease of your legs, hauntingly close to where you wanted them to be, yet tauntingly far. His fingers toyed with your nipple causing you to moan involuntarily.

“You think I haven’t noticed how you've looked at me over the past weeks? I can smell arousal on you whenever I’m near. I’ve struggled for months not to fuck you at every opportunity with the looks you throw my way when you think I am not looking.”

There was no place for you to go, nowhere for you to run. His words rang true in your ear and you could’ve died from embarrassment if your clitoris wasn't pulsing with an undying need that this man refused to appease. “Please, James, I – “

Unexpectedly, the hand that rested on your thigh maneuvered deftly beyond the hem of your pants to the outside of your underwear. You jerked at the unexpected motion, your knuckles turning white as you strained to keep yourself contained. The touches were fleeting and exploratory but you were weak against them.

“Last night was the beginning of the end for you. I am going hear you beg me to fuck you by the end of the night,” he all but dripped in your ear.

Somehow Bucky had moved his hand around the edge of your panties. Any attempt at controlling your breathing was immediately sabotaged as Bucky’s adept fingers began their exploration of your folds. He growled at your slickness. His teeth clamped down on your neck and your blood coursed poignantly against the heat of his mouth.

Then, it was gone.

Bucky licked his fingers as plates of food and the appetizer appeared on the table. Thanking the waitress, he ordered another round of drinks. You sat there motionless.

“Get to eating, doll. You have a long day ahead of you.”

_Fucking unreal._

The rest of lunch was significantly uneventful, comparatively. While it was delicious, you could barely focus on the concoction of flavors that danced around in your mouth due to the lack of fingers dancing around in your pants. You drank two more mimosa, likely purely out of disappointment and quiet, seething anger.

After lunch, the next three hours went by without incident. Bucky did not tease you, he did not touch you, nor did he reprimand you for withdrawing into your mind for the rest of your time together. He was casual. You were annoyed.

No, no. _Angry. Not_ – you eyed the way his jeans complimented his body – _the least bit_ – the way his shirt was snug against his rippling pectorals - _annoyed, instead maybe slightly_ – your eyes crept down to his bulge – _really fucking turned on_. And the man wasn't even trying. This was upsetting.

Sometime after you left the mall – a detail you were too occupied to notice despite it being a trying experience that ended up just being window shopping – you were overcome with an urge to either strangle Bucky or tie him down and fuck him. That was to be determined.

Folding your arms, you took an aggressive stance. Power plays were not something you took lightly, not from Steve, and certainly not from Bucky. He may be a war hero but he could still be a cock – today was evidence of that. Either through trial by fire and blunt force trauma, you would make him correct his attitude. You would.

As if sensing your emotions, Bucky turned to look at you over the roof of the car.

“Are you going to finish what you started?” you asked.

Bucky smirked at you and toyed with his keys. “And what is it I am meant to have started?” He leaned against the top of the car and his eyes became dark. The look of challenge that only Bucky could manage to cast you bristled your insides.

You stamped your feet. “You damn well know what!”

“My, my. Have I upset you?” That fucking laughter, those goddamn pearly whites.

“Upset does not hold a flame to what I am feeling right now.”

“I’m so sorry, doll.” Something in his tone did not transfer as sincerity. He then licked his lips at you and you could have mewled at the loss of a sensation you have never felt, becoming jealous of his tongue being so close to his lips. “Do you plan on teaching me a lesson, mistress?”

That caused you to freeze; you were speechless. The words of the tangible Adonis before you lifted you up and carried you to a different headspace, someplace you had never dared to ask Steve to take you. Teach him a lesson? Would it not be better for him to teach _you_? The feeling of rope scratching against your wrists, silken folds covering your eyes, your favorite toy vibrating against your clit… Mm. _Was that an honest proposition?_

You weren’t able to unravel that mystery before you saw James Buchanan Barnes roll his eyes… _at you._ “Thought not. Get your fucking ass in the car.”

Fine. If James wanted to play this fucking game, you would join him and you would win. He’d eat his words and he would be the one to regret his display earlier; you would make him. No one would dare taunt you the way this man had, nor did on a continuous basis. You were going to make him squirm in his seat and you were going to enjoy it.

Taking your place in the passenger seat, you sat emboldened with new purpose. Bucky started the engine, which revved straight through your body. The plush leather heated seats poured warmth into your muscles and you felt yourself relax into the seat. The least the gods could provide for you was a comfortable space for the delectable indulgence you were about to partake in.

Around the first curve of the road, you could no longer contain yourself. All the day’s frustrations and trying situations were coming to a head. Leaning yourself closer to Bucky, you undid your seat belt and had your arm grip the back of his headrest, your fingers toying with his hair. He seemed to tense at the contact.

The clothing you were wearing for this outing was working in your favor. Your breasts, you knew, looked quite amazing in your shirt as you sat on your knees to bend across the center console of the car, slinking ever closer to the body you craved. Leather crinkled quietly over the sound of a muted radio station. Licking the outer shell of his ear, you moaned playfully.

“You know, “ your lips caressed his neck as you continued, “you talk a big game, James. And I have yet to see if your assets match your mouth.” You laid a delicate finger on the growing bulge in Bucky’s jeans. Did he just swallow? Was Bucky nervous? “What's the matter, James? Worried you’ll be found wanting?”

That beautiful smirk appeared, erasing any trace of insecurity, and you struggled to not melt into a puddle. “Hardly, doll. Just don't want you to choke on more than you can handle.”

“Show me.”

With the dexterity befitting a man of his profession, Bucky pulled his penis from his trousers in one motion. His penis was – It was remarkable, yet somehow that word fell short of actuality. The vascularity of his member was spellbinding in a way you never knew possible. He was girth-y, in a manner, and still lengthy. What he had his wide did not appear to be sacrificed in length. The head of his penis and the shaft were perfect for each other, carved by the hand of Michelangelo himself.

Now fully erect it was before you, you could finally put all the unknown of your fantasy to rest – you had seen every inch of James Buchanan Barnes, and it was appetizing. You closed your mouth and willed your salivary glands to calm themselves.

“Impressed?”

It was your turn to smirk then. “You may receive extra credit, Mr. Barnes, for your impressive endowment, but we have yet to see what it can do.”

“Try it out for yourself.”

Obliging yourself more than him, you leaned down to taste the marvelous treat that awaited you. You dallied and toyed with his member, alternating between your hands and your mouth. Such a warm heat you knew he would succumb to you soon, but you wanted to draw it out. A few times you took him further than he was prepared for and you became giddy as his feigned control and hushed expletives.

Feeling the need and the time to tease, you let his dick pop out of your mouth while your hand continued to stroke him firmly, evenly. “I thought you had wanted to put my mouth to better use?” Your tongue flicked the sensitive underside of his penis. “Are you taking that back now, James?” Another toying flick.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Not hardly.”

You sat back in your seat, gripping Bucky’s testicles in your hand. “Excellent, then be a good boy and pull over. You’re swerving.”

In fluid and lightening-fast motions befitting a serum-made superhuman, Bucky pulled into a parking lot behind long, dilapidated building, completely out of sight of the street. In even less time than that, you found yourself on your knees, cock in mouth, eyes staring up at one of the most gorgeous men God could have made. Never had you even dreamed of this happening. Well, perhaps once you had.

His throbbing head pulsed against the insides of your mouth as you bobbed your head. Pre-cum seeped onto your tongue, creating a delicious mixture of man-musk and semen that only made your hunger grow. You gripped and groped up his inner thighs, occasionally letting his balls rest in your hands for an assertive squeeze; an action that you realize he enjoyed every time but biting his lips and groaning.

You would hear that sound again soon.

“Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look with a cock in your mouth?” His voice was gravely but his hand was light on your head.

You wanted to pleasure yourself but steeled your hand. This was not about your pleasure; this was about his lack of control. Winning would establish the balance between you.

Bucky’s body quivered and you knew you were doing everything right. His eyes were hazed as he looked down at you, offering a raised eyebrow and a look of immense pleasure. Taking cue from his demeanor, you firmed your mouth against his member and continued your ministrations with your tongue. That groan came again and you could sense his orgasm.

His hand tightened on your hair but never became painful – he was still mindful of you even as the waves of pleasure started to release themselves down your throat. _“Fuck”_ fell into your ears and you groped at Bucky’s backside, forcing him deeper the weaker he became. You swallowed in a calculated pace, like the champion you were, and gloated internally.

To witness such a frighteningly powerful man succumb to your whims was empowering. You may have been the one with a dick in your mouth, but he was the one who could not handle it.

“Remind me to irritate you more.” Bucky fixed himself and settled his dick back into his pants.

You unceremoniously wiped the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand, returning to the passenger’s side of the car. “Do that and you’ll lose more than you bargained for.”

Bucky’s smile never reached his eyes, but the words he murmured aloud to himself did reach your ears. You weren’t meant to have heard them, that you were certain; you could pretend you hadn’t heard them but then you would be lying to yourself. They drifted across the air was light as a feather, and yet hit you harder than a brick.

He looked over at you and whispered: _“I’m prepared to lose a lot for you.”_

Your heart stopped.


	3. Chapter Three

You were cold on the drive back, the heated seats not doing anything to calm the frost that drifted through you. Your heart may have been beating but you did not feel it. The haze of thought was occluding your mind as Bucky’s words replayed in your mind. Such an odd sensation you felt, such an odd place your mind was in.

_I’m prepared to lose a lot for you._

Bucky’s energy had shifted completely since he uttered those words. You could not be sure how long you had been in the car, nor how much longer you had left in your journey. Time had stopped moving as far as you were concerned and you were aloft in space, your mind endlessly wandering.

_What had he meant by that?_

Lose what, and when, to whom? Why had you allowed yourself to be beguiled by your own desires in the first place? Bucky may have been everything you wanted to have hold you down and fuck you, pull your hair and dig his nails into your hips, bite your neck and growl in your ear, but there was more to this wanton subversion than you could figure out.

The car stopped, signaling your arrival at the Stark Tower. Making a straight line for the elevator, you tried to avoid getting trapped in this metal box with that 6’0, 170-lb emotional assassin and failed: Bucky slithered in behind you with the super-human speed you currently wished he did not possess. You could feel him looking at you over your shoulder; you did your damnedest to ignore that piercing gaze.

Upon entering your apartment, you plopped onto your couch and covered your eyes with your forearm. You heard footsteps, the fridge door open and close, and the sound of a bottle opening, and then nothing, dead air. That stupid, annoying silence that let your thoughts consume your mind – a most unfavorable situation presently.

Your free hand drifted up to touch your lips and you swore they tingled with a devious longing of something you knew you should want. It occurred to you, in that moment, that despite all these erotic dealings between you and Mr. Barnes you had never kissed. Well, you had briefly after he had gone down on you but you hadn’t really explored the dexterity of his tongue on your mouth. Something surged to life the longer you thought on it, and you knew you would be utterly fucked if he could feel the desire oozing from you.

“So… You’ve been quiet. Care to divulge?”

Groaning in frustration, either at him for ruining your necking-fantasy or yourself for having a necking-fantasy to ruin, you didn’t know. “Don’t speak to me,” you barked, “I have more going on than your unrequited sentiment, Bucky.” That was harsh, even for you.

“That may be” – you could hear his smile permeate his words, “however, this would be better resolved before your beloved Captain returns home.”

 _’This’?_ ‘This’? What the fuck is ‘this’ even? And how dare he even bring Steve into this; that was not his place.

You chose not to respond.

You needed some time alone, time to think. Another shower might have been a good idea but it looked like Bucky had no intention of leaving, and you needed to get away from him specifically. There were too many emotions that fluttered too close to your heart – they needed to be evaluated. No, they needed to be set on fire.

“I’m going to the gym.” Grabbing your gym bag, you headed toward the door; no goodbye fell from your lips, and your eyes were downward-cast. Still you managed to see Bucky’s features contort into something of concern as you walked toward your front door but you ignored him.

Soon your boyfriend would come home and everything would go back to normal. Bucky would leave and you would go on and live a happy life. That was, unless, your guilty conscience got the better of you and your life became like ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’. You shook that idea from your mind.

What had become of you?

Some exercise would do you good, some drinking may do you better, but you would start with exercise.

~~~~

 _Please don’t be here when I get back_.

He would have been lying if Bucky said your words wishing he wouldn't be here when you got back did not leave a slight pang in his chest. It did not seem like you meant for him to hear those words, but he had. You were more bitter about this situation than he had accounted for. _Fuck_.

Thinking back to earlier, seeing you on your knees, mouth fixated on his dick, the seduction and fire in your eyes – he had meant in earnest what he had said about your beauty. You were…sensational, in every way. Bucky took pride in his resilience at coming from blowjobs, a talent that he had only recently been able to re-engage after leaving the violent spell of HYDRA, but you had unraveled him quicker than he would have liked to admit.

He felt his dick swell at the memory.

Something hedonist and raw was buried within you – he could sense it. The good Captain may have sex with you, but Bucky could guarantee he didn't fuck you. He would gladly work to fill that empty space within you, after all Bucky was nothing short of a gentleman. The blood that had oozed into his penis circulated with strength as he groaned at the thought of claiming as you longed to be claimed.

Bucky groaned and palmed at the hardness in his pants. He had not had sex outside of fellatio since his return to civilized life: a secret only the Captain knew. The consciousness of orgasming, of sex, of _connection_ was amazing, as far as he remembered; you had given him a piece of that this afternoon.

From being around you, from going down on you, to teasing you at lunch, he had come to remember the feelings that he had lost during his time as a mindless killing machine. Nothing he had done during his time with HYDRA left a ripple of memory, of feeling, or of sensation in his mind, heart, or bones, but he was recalling everything he had every done with you and wanted _more_.

Bucky had not realized the level of depravity that flowed through his mind about all things carnal, wanton, pleasurable, until he found you. The depths of these desires that lingered within him were enticing to be sure but he needed to place his safe. It was not like you were a single dame: you were his best friend’s girl. Still – he knew what you wanted and he would give it to you. Every devious, salacious, and damned fantasy he had was now consumed with images of you.

 _Calm down, James_ , he thought to himself. _This girl is complicated._

He mused that it may have been partly because of his experience as an assassin that he longed for a deeper, more dark intercourse with another person, it could have been partly because of his past as a playboy before becoming the Winter Soldier that he reminisced about what vanilla sex was like, but it was mostly because of you that he wanted these things, all of these things, _with_ you.

You were much more than he had bargained for.

‘ _I’m prepared to lose a lot for you_ ’?

Bucky could have thrown himself into Hellfire at his own omission. What in God’s name had he been thinking? He mused over his words and wanted to slap himself for being so sentimental. What the fuck was wrong with him? This was not supposed to be the direction this _– whatever it was –_ was meant to go. He had overestimated his self-constraint, and underestimated you, and now it was beyond his control.

His fun was to end as soon as Steve got back, not before. You and he were meant to have plentiful carnal encounters fueled by the idea of infidelity for a couple days. Not a sudden and un-conventional shit-swirl of unguarded emotions. It was not meant to morph into something mawkish. Yet, singlehandedly, he had done so and ruined it, for everybody.

God. Damn. It.

Grabbing his phone, he sent his best friend a message. He was not sure what it would do for either party, himself or the Captain, but he needed someone else to know: **I fucked it up.**

Thank God it was after noon: it was time to drink.

~~~~

The gym was relatively uneventful; you did your basic rounds of machines and free-weights before retiring from the monotony. You ran into Sam and asked him to spar with you. After throwing him around, pinning him successfully a couple times, and landing one or two not-so-accidental blows to his kidneys, he tapped out. Rubbing his back and his neck, he came to sit next to where you were sulking on the mat.

“You okay?” he asked. “You seem a little hostile this afternoon.”

As always, where to begin? “I’m…just fucked up. Sabotaging perfect things with my imperfections. Normal stuff.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

You did laugh then. “Paradise isn’t real.”

He nodded in knowing and smiled at you. “Nothing some sex can’t fix, I hope.”

 _If only it was sex with the right person._ You heaved a sigh. “We’ll see.”

After some enduring moments of silence, Sam called it quits and left you to yourself. You lay down on the mat, letting the coolness of the plastic soothe your pulsing nerves. _Nothing some sex can’t fix_. As if this situation were so simple. Your feelings were still unsorted – beating up Sam had helped relieve some tension, but this feelings thing… Ick.

Electing a course of action for more tension relief, you walked over to the punching bag in the corner and began sparring. Your muscles were fatigued from your match with Sam but you knew you had more to give. Roundhouse kicks, knees, flying elbows, and punches might have torn the bag asunder if you were someone else; you were grateful the bag could handle your barrage.

Beyond the physical demand of your state, your excited brain searched for solutions to whatever this fucking reality was you found yourself in. If Bucky was a problem, the solution was removing him obviously. Slowing your onslaught, you worked on catching your breath. You had made up your mind about everything.

Bucky would need to be dealt with first and foremost. Getting him out of your apartment was the very least that needed to be done to rectify your sanity, dignity, and happiness. _I am the queen of my house_ , you chanted in your head. _All who don’t fear me will worship the ground I walk on._

And so it would be.

~~~~

“So… What exactly happened?” Captain America’s voice conveyed a tone of amazement as his best friend explained to him the day’s passings.

“I’m not entirely sure anymore,” Bucky admitted, holding his face in his hands.

Steve laughed then. “Goodness, Buck, I tried to tell you she was more than you could handle.”

Bucky smirked. “Yes, yes, you did."

They both contemplated the next course of action to take. Steve spoke up first. “If I know my girl – and I’d like to think I do – she’s likely taking her anger out of some poor schmuck or an inanimate object at the gym. Then she’ll come home in a funk and demand some things: don’t give in. She can be reasoned with if you wine and dine her. The rest is up to you – you gotta do some damage control and keep her reasonable until I get back.”

Seemed straight forward enough. “After dinner and drinks, then what?”

“Do what you do best.”

“Get her hot and bothered?” Steve laughed and muttered something like “yes, of course” and Bucky smiled. “Sure thing, Captain.” He went to hang up the phone when he heard Steve call out to him.

“Oh – and Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t fuck her.”

 _Hmm…_ That cursed sensation came flooding back into his body, into his mind, and into his member. Everyone was testing his resolve today. Were he a weaker man it might have been broken completely; however God had given him patience enough to last through a war, surely this would be less intensive.

Bucky managed a distracted “I’ll try my best” and then hung up the phone.

The growing bulge was going to take more than a gentle rub to make go away this time.

 _This was going to be a lively evening_ , he mused. _Now to resume dinner._

~~~~

The elevator was becoming your least favorite mode of scaling floors: it left you with too much time to think, too much time to loosen your resolution. You were the queen – no, no! You _are_ the queen, and you are in control of this situation. Bucky would come to see that in time. His goddamn stifling masculinity and sexual prowess could be damned – he had no power in your house.

As soon as the doors opened, you rushed to your door and barged into your apartment.

“Bucky.” You toss your gym bag on the couch. “You need to go,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.

Bucky was sipping on a glass of wine. “And why is that?” That smirk. Damn him and how it made you want to caress his lips with your tongue.

“You know why. I don’t need you to watch over me, and with certain things having taken place, it’d be better if you weren’t here when Steve comes home.”

Bucky clicked his tongue and thought for a moment. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. It’s Thanksgiving and I’ve made dinner.”

Somehow your machisma anger had done a masterful job at shielding your olfactory senses and optic nerves. Breathing in deep you let the smells invade your nostrils: mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, rolls, and…game hens? Your eyes confirmed what your nose suspected: a boiling pot of potatoes and a steaming vat of gravy sat on the stove, the oven light illuminated a turkey barely golden, and a bowl of sauce and a platter of baked rolls sat on the counter-top. How long had you been at the gym?

“You know how to cook?”

“Once upon a time, I was a man of many talents.” He smiled in nostalgia, and you felt your anger melt away. Suddenly his look hardened and he turned his attention toward you. “Now. I’m done dealing with your shit attitude. Go shower and put on something nice.”

You did just that, regrettably humbled about trying to kick a man out on Thanksgiving. How did you forget? Putting on a little, simple black dress with matching flats and emerged twenty minutes later back into the kitchen.

“We have twenty minutes on the game hens.” Offering you a prepared glass of wine, Bucky swaggered over to you: you took it with feigned reluctance. “So until then I suggest we drink and pretend to like each other.”

“How do we do that?” You took a sip.

Wrong question. “I could fill your cunt with my fingers and my tongue like last night,” he offered.

You opened your mouth to respond. That fucking... _Be diplomatic_ , you countered internally. _It’s Thanksgiving after all_. You closed your mouth and took another sip through pursed lips. Completely ignoring the aura of tension you were attempting you put out, he continued.

“Or…we could practice testing your gag reflex with that ever-tensing throat of yours?” He was so close to you as he said this. Somehow he wasn't touching you: his shirt flirted with the small hairs on your arm, but the heat of his flesh was not behind it. It disappointed you.

“Something tells me that being on your knees is one of your favorite places to be.”

Trying not to release any tells about the accuracy of the words that he uttered only in jest, you looked away from him. How true his words were. You would never admit it outwardly what a cock-slut you actually were. Steve had never picked up on the amount you longed to feel the pulsing member of a man on your tongue, to feel the warmth of a stream of semen spill down your throat. On your knees was the best way to receive these things.

“Look at me.” You did. “Would you deny it?”

Tonguing the glass, you tried to gauge his purpose. Was he challenging you? Did he want you to admit that he knew you better than you knew yourself? You set your glass down. As if. He could go fuck himself.

“Such audacity!” You had a flare for the dramatic and you were going to live it up. “Is that any way to talk about your best friend’s girlfriend, James?”

“If talking is what you’d prefer to do. We can always cut the bullshit and I’ll fuck you right in this kitchen like we both know you want.”

Heat and blood surged to your cheeks. Was Bucky admitting what he wanted or saying these things to get a rise out of you? Goodness. Either way it was working. Perhaps drama was not the best path…

“You may be jealous of Captain America but you won’t be able to convince me to fuck any one other than Steve.”

He scoffed, put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and leaning back against the opposing counter, crossed his legs and stared at you. His picturesque angle of repose reminded you of a classic man in the fifties. The polished leather of his shoes, sleek blackness of his pants, wispy allure of his button-up, the chiseled visage of perfection were so appealing to you that you almost had to sit on your hands to quell the urge to put hands all over him.

Bucky’s effortless command of his body and stature constantly put you in awe of his majesty and manliness. Some how his very presence was always an exhilarating experience for you whether you expected it or not.

It was then that you realized: you had no honest power against him.

Immediately after you returned your gaze to his, your free-roaming eye-fuck over, in one swift movement Bucky grabbed your waist, spun you around, pressing your face into the counter, his expansive chest against your bed, one of your arms pinned between you. A warm, strong hand slid underneath your throat and tensed, gently, tenderly but firmly.

You were ablaze with awareness, tingling, sensation. The simple act of resting his palm flush against your throat and squeezing swept you away to the dark place of submission that you had never been taken. You wanted so much more, something better and more painful.

“You think you have any control here, little viper?” Bucky’s tone was melted chocolate to you, and covered your body and your mind in a warm haze; you breathed the fog out onto the counter. “You think you don’t get away with what I let you?”

His grip was so firm you could not move your wrist or arm at all. It might have hurt if you weren’t so fucking turned on by the presence of this man. Subconsciously you moved your hips back towards his crouch, your feelings of being powerless corrected themselves when you bumped into his lengthening penis.

You bit your lip in arousal. How quickly your anger was overtaken by pining urge to be held down and fucked.

“Up” he commanded.

You cooed. Pushing yourself up with your free hand, you arched into his chest. His breath was warm on your neck and it made you shiver.

“You are a treacherous little snake,” he whispered into your hair. “Trying to get me to fuck you when your boyfriend isn’t around. Such a shameless slut.”

“As if you’d prefer me another way.”

“What say we clean your filthy mouth out, shall we?”

 _Mm, yes!_ Your brain sent your nerves tingling at the prospect. Bucky’s hand in your hair was so much more austere, so much sterner than earlier. He directed your head downward and you fell to your knees with an eagerness and reverence that was unfamiliar to you. Gripping the fabric of his pants, you tugged and stroked his thighs.

“I’m not sure you've earned his…” He teased you, running the head of his penis against your cheek. You tried to flick your tongue out to taste him, and he pulled your head back with a quick jerk. “ _Tsk tsk_ , doll. You have to listen to get what you want.”

Adjusting his grip on your hair, he moved you more in front of him. “Tongue: out.” You complied so eagerly, shifting expectantly. Feeling the wetness that had accumulated between your legs, you realized you wanted more than what he was giving you. You would listen, you wanted him to fuck you; you would listen.

Resting his penis on the tip of your tongue, Bucky gave you a warning: “Don’t move.” Moving your head around the head of his penis by pulling and directing your hair, your muscle slicked all available, tangible parts of his manhood. Bucky was letting you feel him but not taste him. You did your best to abide by what his firm directions meant, hoping that there would be a reward for good behavior.

However, when he did this more than once and your patience waned. He went slower each time, his member seeking deeper refuge in the moisture of your throat. More tortuous and also more fulfilling were his actions, but they did nothing to diminish your growing need to let him throat-fuck you with fervor.

“Tell me what you want, doll, and I do my best.”

“Just fucking put it in, goddamnit!” you hissed.

“Have I interrupted something?”

 _That voice!_ You paled and swallowed all of the air in your throat. Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting! Inspiration is all around me today. Please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter Four

Bucky released his grip on your hair and adjusted his erection to his waistband. Turning on your toes before daring to raise your head, you stood up from behind the counter as inconspicuously as possible. With a coy and steady hand, you ruffled your hair into some sort of organized chaos.

Steve looked over at you, and then to his best friend, and then back at you. “Have I interrupted something?”

“Captain Rogers!” exclaimed Bucky in genuine excitement. “Just in time: dinner is almost ready.”

Bucky made it over to your boyfriend before your mind even generated the thought of moving. You watched with arousal and mixed emotion as Bucky greeted his best friend. Steve smiled his all-American smile and the two men embraced one another. Still staring, you remained unmoved, unsure if any movements would relay the guilt you now felt bubbling up within you.

Steve leaned into Bucky as the two exchanged hushed words that made you immediately uncomfortable. Your Captain’s face showed no tell of the topic, but the sly look in the eyes of Bucky when he glanced at you made you uneasy. His mouth moved too quickly and too smoothly for you to attempt to discern anything. When Bucky stopped his whispers, Steve looked directly at you and said something to the effect of “we’ll talk more about that later”.

You glared at them suspiciously.

“Are you not happy to see your beloved Captain?” asked Bucky, turning to face you.

You picked up your glass of wine that you realized acted as a tether to sanity and smiled. “Yes, of course I am. But the greeting I had in mind is not company appropriate.” You smirked at your own words. Taking a swig, you stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Besides I did not want to interrupt the moment you two were having.”

“I’m sure.”

Steve dropped his bag by the door and came over to you. With open arms and a warm intent your boyfriend breathed you in like you were the last good thing he had to his name. You said nothing but you hoped your body conveyed the message that your mind tried diligently to relay: “Thank God you are back.”

“I missed you. How have you been?”

You looked deep into the heartfelt blues of your boyfriend. “Better now that you are here.”

“I’m going to shower and change into more Thanksgiving dinner-centric clothing.”

“I’ll come spy on you shortly,” you flirted.

“Please do.” With that he wandered off to the bathroom, throwing a gesture of gratitude to his best friend.

After Steve disappeared, you turned your attention toward Bucky, eyes narrowing like a hawk that’s spotted its pray, you anticipated your next move. Bucky placed his hands in his pockets and eyed you in challenge. “You can stay through dinner, but then I want you gone,” you finally say.

“I can stay?” His laughter was incredulous. “I made dinner.”

Shrugging with indifference, you offered nothing better. “Don’t push me.”

Bucky walked over to stand directly before you, making you drown in a feeling of inferiority and insecurity immediately. His heat never dissipated and neither did the intensity at which he stared at you. “You may try to have some sort of power in this dynamic but we both know how much you want me to dominate you. Don’t let the truth of what you were begging me to for two seconds before your beloved Steve walked in fade from your mind. You’ve thought of me fucking you, admitted it to me – I can smell it on you… Before the end of the night, I said, you would beg me to fuck you: we still have time.”

Goddamn it. There it went: your resolve, your commitment to your own power. Poof! You were shaking, from what you didn't even know, but your thighs felt slick and your head felt light with the dark promise of that fucking voice. You detested how wet your panties were. Folding your arms, you feigned some semblance of disapproval and took a step back.

“Fuck off.”

Smirking, he tipped an invisible hat to you. “As the queen wishes.”

You practically ran to the bathroom to barricade yourself away from that beast of longing. Closing the door behind yourself, you turned to lean against it. Steve was in the shower, the running water doing minimal work to dull the noise inside your head. You could see his Atlantean figure through the clear glass walls of the stall, and you took a moment to admire.

Steve’s body was one of perfection. The variance between him and Bucky was minimal but apparent. While they shared the same height, their masses could not be more differently manifested.  Starting from the bottom, strength and finesse crept into his musculature in ways you never knew you could appreciate. His thighs and derriere held a lithe, firm power that you had came to appreciate while Steve had made love to you numerous times, nails dug deep those plump mounds.

His penis was something that – whether attributed to the serum or a natural endowment – was surely a weapon to undue women completely one step at a time. Its length was idyllic, its girth was faultless, and its shape was divinely molded to fit within you like the key to a lock. You considered yourself lucky to know such a man in the intimate ways you did.

Tenable strength and authority marched across his upper body through his veins and muscles and over his impressive expanse of back. You watched with eager and hungry eyes as he lathered himself in soap and rinsed himself off. The water that cascaded of him did little to smother the fire that was being stoked with you. Either from the front or the back, he was quite amazing, a monument of perfection and an ode to human beauty.

The floor-length mirror that rested at the far end of the bathroom began to fog, signaling your need to come back to reality. _That mirror_ … It was a feature that you had never exploited with the accompaniment of ever-powerful shower head and boyfriend. Wouldn’t mind seeing myself getting fucked in that, you mused. If you could only you could get Captain America to fuck you the way you needed…

 _Bucky will do it_ came that voice of perversion. Shifting uncomfortably, you finally spoke.

“Why did you have to send Bucky to watch over me while you were away?” _Especially since you know how I feel about him._

“Well…” He thought for a moment. “I know you don't like being alone and I figured he could be entertaining sometimes.” Steve rinsed his beautiful tresses and looked back at you through running water. “Why? Did something happen?”

Now was your chance, to confess your sins and beg forgiveness. A better opportunity would never come. Your mouth opened and closed like the gills of a fish on land but no sound came out. _How to start?_ Nothing seemed right – it didn’t feel appropriate to admit what had transpired between you and your boyfriend’s best friend. Admitting it out loud would make you guiltier, and you were not ready for that.

Failing to meet his eyes, you stayed silent.

The shower turned off and, grabbing a towel, Steve dried himself off as best he could before coming over to you, lifting your chin with his hand. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips, softly and tenderly. It was loving, touching, and everything you needed to be to relieve the gnawing emotion you felt within you. And you were all too elated to caress the fine muscularity of America’s oldest Avenger who was damp and shirtless before you.

But between all the sexual frustration and unease you had felt over the last few days, you need more than a control peck, you needed more than what you were given. Leaning into him, you coaxed his mouth open with your tongue, pushing for more. Steve seemed all to happy to oblige you which spurred you to wrap your hands around his neck and bit his lip. He moaned into you, a sound that immediately went to the fire in your belly.

Something hard pressed into your front and you instinctively dropped a hand to toy with what rightfully belonged to you. Alternating your grip, looking up at Steve through hooded lids, you opened your mouth to speak.

You both spoke at the same time: “Steve, I – “, “Would you like to – ?”

 _Knock! Knock!_ “I hope you still have room for food in there: dinner is now served,” Bucky’s voice sounded through the door.

“I guess the hens are done,” your boyfriend said smiling down at you; you smiled back.

Grabbing the doorknob to make your leave, Steve came up behind you, the breadth of his chest encased you in warmth and you almost melted back into his touch but something stopped you as he breathed in your scent. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

It made you shiver.

He’d said it loads of times before but now – maybe because of the last few days, maybe because of the sexual tension, maybe because of your guilt – it resonated with you, touched a chord…touched your heart. You didn’t say anything back, though. Not because you didn't feel the truth within you but because it wasn’t the time.

“What say you: shall we eat?”

Steve left the bathroom to change and met you and Bucky in the sad excuse for a dining room moments later: he looked amazing. Never had a man made a dress shirt and pants look so effortlessly sensual. Well, aside from Bucky, almost never. A silk shirt stretched tirelessly over his arms to clothe them, the few buttons on the shirt had nearly given up their job, failing to reveal the lovely expanse of chest that you never got tired of touching. That was to say nothing of the endless flattery that his trousers were unleashing on his endowments, posterior and anterior.

Now you had two muscly, well-dressed men before you. Looking between the two of them, you took a moment to realize how utterly trashed your ovaries were. Fuck.

Dinner was delectable. It was a lucky circumstance that you always seemed to find men who could cook – it always made your life easier. Stuffing your face to your stomach’s content, you watched the two men parlay and gabble like old flames. Bucky and Steve talked and reminisced like they had both just been thawed, and you played along, not wanting to be that melancholy dramatist of the group, but you were observant.

Bucky was so debonair in all he did that it made it hard to stay upset at him for any length of time. He was haughty and arrogant, but rightly so – he had always been that person. His tenure as the Winter Soldier might have been a departure from himself but there were parts of the Soldier that lingered on within him. Perhaps that was what drew you to Bucky. Knowing what he had suffered through and overcame was admirable. It shone through in his mannerism and the way he carried himself: he was so self-assured yet you could not find a reason to dislike him.

 _Charming bastard_.

Steve was different. Even though he was Captain America, he preferred being Steve Rogers; he enjoyed being a regular person. His occupation as the leading Avenger was circumstantial and situational: it was not who he was but who others needed him to be. There was a sadness mixed with his sense of obligation that had always struck you. Outliving all your family and friends must be insufferable, learning all new technologies and history must be time-consuming, but he did it, because he needed to. You could never knock Steve for that; he was always such a good natured human being.

Which brought your thoughts to yourself. Dear goodness. How undeserving you were of the living you were leading. Truly fortunate, yes; potentially undeserving, yes. Everything could change in one fell swoop, you reminded yourself. Enjoy everything that you have while you have it. _Or everyone_.

Plates were moved to the kitchen sink, rinsed, and placed in the dishwasher. You weren’t sure how but your wine glass never emptied despite it being close several times. The conversation moved all of your bodies to the living room: you sat on the couch, lounging against Steve, while Bucky sat in an arm chair. After the conversation died down in a comfortable lull, a resounding hand-clap from the Winter Soldier captured your attention.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” elected Bucky.

You shot him a scowl and the Captain shifted uncomfortably. “Buck, I think we’re a little old for that – ”

“Hardly. We can up the stakes and make the rule that if you pass or lose, you drink.”

Was there any evening yet this week that hadn’t ended in you drinking? At least it was social. You needed something to help relieve the tension and turmoil within your soul anyhow. “I’m game.” More wine was never a had thing.

Steve gave you an unsure look over your shoulder but nodded along.

The questions started off tame, of course. “Who was your first kiss?”, “Worst thing you did in high school?”, “Most embarrassing moment?”, etc. Bucky dared you to do a handstand for 15 seconds, Steve dared Bucky to lift deadlift the couch, and you dared Steve to say the worst string of profanity he could come up with – it was laughable. However, it took little for the game to escalate to serious challenges and deeper questions. You tried to maintain a sober mantle between balancing not wanting to answer certain questions and not wanting to give too much away to present company.

It was your turn to choose. “Truth or dare?” asked Bucky.

“Truth.”

“On a scale of one to ten…” You watched, tantalized as Bucky rolled his tongue over his lips in deep thought. You tried really hard to quell the urge to tangle his tongue with yours.  “How badly do you want to get fucked right now?”

Dear Lord. That was direct. Heat coursed through your body as you sat and stared incredulously at Bucky. That beautiful face was so smug – you’d kiss that look off his face if you could.

 _Hmm._ Do you drink or do you play? Bucky would likely continue to tease you for any high number; refusing to drink would leave you looking guilty and suspicious to your boyfriend. Despite feeling your inhibitions falling because of the long sips of wine you’d been consuming, you could still be in control of this; you had to be. Challenge accepted. “A seven.”

“We’ll have to fix that,” Steve cooed in your ear. You might’ve purred had you not been so distracted.

“Buck – truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Your ideal fantasy.” Steve’s directness surprised you. He hadn’t had that much to drink – or had he? You didn’t recall. His forwardness did pique your interest to how forthcoming Bucky would be. You stared at the Soldier eagerly and expectant.

“Now that _is_ a good question.” That dark, deceptive energy surged forth from Bucky as he rubbed his chin pensively. “With the exception of one _very_ specific…situation, I think my sexual life is quite fulfilled.”

“That doesn’t answer the question” you heard yourself say. You quickly took a swig to cover your embarrassment at your obvious eagerness at Bucky’s response. He cast you a knowing look and you were never happier that Steve could not see your face.

“Hmm… My ideal fantasy is a bit far-fetched. It would start with me fondling this girl in plain view of her boyfriend: he’s watching a movie, and we’re making dinner. She’d whisper to me about how she’d love it if I could fuck her with her boyfriend in the same room, totally unaware. My dick would already be hard. I’d’ve been waiting for her to let me fuck her for months now. Being the daring and cheeky slut that she keeps hidden from everyone but me, she’d grab at my dick and stroke the length of it, licking her lips at the thought of it filling her. I’d nip and bite down the length of her neck harder enough to leave marks and elicit the most delectable sounds.

“The TV would be too loud for her boyfriend to hear us. Bending her over the counter, I’d tease her pussy tirelessly with my tongue; her knees would buckle and she’d gasp and cover her mouth, from me knowing her folds intimately. Soon her body would be shaking from need, and she’d be spreading her lips to show me how wet she was. I’d grab her throat from behind and fuck her raw, like the whore she always wanted to be – no condom, no lube – every stroke of my dick bringing her closer to the edge. Covering her mouth as she tried to cry out at the bruises beginning to take shape on her thighs. Tears would roll down her cheeks in ecstasy as I continued to fuck her into the counter.

“But I wouldn’t come. No, I’d make her beg for my dick like it was the last best thing on earth… And even when she begged, groveled on her hands and knees for it, I’d make her finish herself and let me watch…” He paused.

“And that would be a nice beginning.” Uttering your name in a manner that was devilish and beguiling, he asked, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

 _Was that - ?_ Had he just reiterated to you the fantasy you had shared with him on that fateful first encounter? Bucky had done your own fantasy so much better than you had even thought possible. Every word he spoke drifted into your brain and swam down to your clitoris, which was now pulsing with anticipation. An anticipation that, clearly, if Bucky had his way would end with you not coming with his penis inside you.

Steve’s body was tense behind you. Your fingers gripped at his silk dress shirt as you focused on steady breathing. Suddenly noting the heavy gravity of silence, and your feeling of being so utterly naked despite being clothed, you let a calming breath out through your nose and adjusted your legs to keep the storm brewing between your legs still. Something firm pressed against the small of your back at your adjustment: you knew immediately what it was.

Your hips rotated more subconsciously at the hardness that pulsed against you.

Someone should give you a cookie for all the hard work you were doing subduing your overwhelming urge to beg to be fucked.

“What d’you say, gorgeous? D’you agree?”

It took you several moments to even process that it was Steve Rogers who was asking you if you agreed with Bucky’s fantasy, and not the Winter Soldier himself. You stammered, confused and caught off-guard. “Uh, I – “

“Would you like to enact Bucky’s fantasy?” he asked pointedly.

Bucky _tsk_ ed his tongue and reclined back in the arm chair. “Come, come, Rogers. What an unfair question to put to the lady. You’ve been away on a mission,” spoke Bucky, “it’d be rude of me to open your welcome home gift first.”

Somehow, you managed to look up at your boyfriend; Steve smiled while his eyes told darker truths. “You’ve taken good care of her – it’d be a proper thank you.” He looked back toward his friend.

You held your breath in your chest. _‘Taken good care of’; ‘a proper thank you’?_ The fuck… Was Steve really talking of giving you to Bucky? Not that you minded, of course, but where was your say in this? How was Steve so willing to share you with his best friend? Wait. Steve was willing…

Oh, dear God. Your insides warmed at the idea of that situation, if they could even be aroused further. The need to relieve the tension pooling in the lower part of your stomach was overwhelming. Feeling the muscles of your legs tingle with lack of blood flow, you realized you had been pressing your legs much too tightly together. You relaxed yourself slightly and as the cool air hit your moistness, you knew you were far too aroused for either of the super soldiers not to notice, not to smell you.

Shame on you for going commando.

As if on cue, Bucky arched an amused brow and breathed in deep. He leaned forward in a menacing manner and rubbed his palms together, like he was planning something sinister. That talented tongue roved over his lips that you longed to feel on you again. Keeping your body still and your mind present was becoming an all-consuming focus as you sat up on your hands and looked down at the floor.

“Well, Captain Rogers… I’d say your girl was more than fond of the idea.”

“Yeah, I sense that.”

Bucky’s eyes searched the flat for something. You strained your eyes as if that would help you read his mind and determine his intent. He palmed his groin with his metal arm absent-mindedly and you almost cooed as the metal plates shifted seamlessly with the motion. So much untested power, so much potential to take you to that place that you’d only heard about. _Mmm_.

“Easy, girl,” spoke Steve from behind you, “you are grinding into my dick and making it difficult not to want to fuck you into this couch.”

Something spurred you to test him by swiveling your pelvis against his. In an uncharacteristic move, Steve grabbed your throat and held it firmly, arresting both your wrists with the other hand. “You have one more time,” his voice was deep in your ear, “to do that before I take advantage of you.”

“Would that you could, Captain,” you challenged.

Steve backed down your verbal challenge: he had something else on his mind. “Where should we start, Buck?”

“Since we’ve had dinner, isn’t it time for dessert?”

“Always.”

In the most seemingly unplanned yet seamlessly coordinated manner, Steve and Bucky lifted you up and carried you over to the dinner table, resting you gently on the cool finished wood with muscled ease. The feel of the table against your flesh let you know how truly warm you were; heat went to your cheeks and seeped from your body at the contact. Your little black dress now rested slightly above your navel, and your breasts were nearly spilling out over the top as you lay horizontal. You were sure you looked like debauched mess.

Bucky had carried you by the legs with a firm grip underneath your buttocks. You longed for him to grip you harder and started to wonder if struggling enough could get you handcuffed. You’d test that theory soon enough. The state of your dress immediately caught his eye, and he outright stared at you. Subconsciously, he licked his lips and moved one hand to handle his erection. He cleared his throat and asked distractedly, “Who serves first?”

At the other end, your boyfriend rubbed your wrists affectionately. “Dealers choice.”

James Buchanan Barnes laughed richly at his friend. His thumbs reached out to stroke your skin as he mused over the words, those fleeting touches setting you ablaze. “I’m a guest in your house, Captain, you can have the first taste.”

Steve was hesitant about letting your wrists go; you could tell by the look on his face when he glanced down at you. Normally, you might have made a joke but this was all too surreal for you to do anything other than stare back blankly. Steve’s eyes roamed slowly over your body, coming finally to look at his best friend. “How do we know she won’t escape?”

“She wants it too bad.”

Soft, slow music began playing, the slow pulses reverberated through your body and down toward your clitoris. So calming the slow beats were, seducing your mind deeper into sexual arousal.  Were you really being put on a table to be devoured by the objects of your sexual depravity? Something in you mewled in feigned protest at no actions having taken place yet.

It was only then you realized how small your table was: Steve would barely have to lean over to press his full body upon you. Steve reluctantly released your hands. His hard penis was gloriously outlined in his trousers as he stood up straight, your mouth at the perfect height to teasingly tongue at it through the fabric; You teasingly bit at the flesh that lay concealed beneath fabric, moving your now-free hands to rub purposefully against the underside of his manhood.

You closed your eyes, thinking hard on how much you wanted to feel something inside you. Strokes and palms roved over an ever-straining member, your intention more devious than you would ever let on. Biting your lip, you focused exclusively on seeing how much Steve would let you get away with, how much he wanted you to do. Captain Rogers hitched his breath; his eyes started to close in reverence.

“Captain, you are losing this battle.”

One cold, firm metallic hand grabbed your wrists with a commanding grip, halting your motions completely. Bucky took the place of his best friend and flexed his hands in warning at you.

“You let her get away with too much.”

Bucky stood above you, your hands in the same position as they had been to Steve and his penis. Yet somehow you dared not to test the boundaries with Bucky; something told you it would not end in your favor. Your eyes watched Bucky watch Steve stride down your legs. There was a gleam in his eye that you couldn’t read; it opened no doors to his soul. Your eyes caught his jaw clenched in tension, a visceral movement that made something animalistic within you long feel it between your teeth, to bite down on it while his dick would be deep inside you.

_Mmm yes!_

Fantasies upon fantasies poured into your mind. To be wrapped in sweaty, carnal sin with a man who could kill you in his sleep was becoming a more consistent desire you realized. Feeling so close to orgasmic bliss, while being mixed with pain and uncertainty – it was calling to you. Every time you were around Bucky, every time he touched you… Pain, power, frenzy; you longed to know what it was like to know them all at once. Bucky could take you there.

_And he will. All you have to do is ask._

Your hips undulated as your boyfriend coming to rest at your feet.

Captain America seemed at a loss, looking at your vulva, pulsing and glistening, might have put weaker men down on their knees. Palming your inner thigh, your boyfriend looked at you with admiration and awe. Steve squatted down and kissed his way up you your thighs, light fleeting touches that sent pulses of passion straight through you. He breathed coolly on the warmth that seeped from between your legs.  The air that hit your vulva was so contrasting to the perfume you were emitting subconsciously. You could feel your vagina flex in need, causing Steve to groan in the back of his throat at the visual.

You bit your lip as you watched in subdued arousal the First Avenger delve into your intimate folds. Steve’s tongue stretched far into your canal, with a vigor you had never known him to exhibit. His tongue and mouth worked slowly and dexterously, like the familiar ground you were to him. You gasped at the contact. His succulent lips encircled your clitoris in a teasing manner, mingled with feathered tonguing and lazy lapping.

“How is she?” came Bucky’s inquiry.

“Incredible,” Steve whispered against your thigh.

The energy shifted and you knew Bucky was now homed in on you; you gulped in trepidation. Bucky was kneeling above you, so his mouth was level with your ears. He was so close to you, but somehow not close enough. His lips tickled, though not touched, the outer shell of your ear as he tormented you with his presence.

“Mm, I remember,” he purred in hushed tones in your ear, “how it feels to have you on my tongue. So responsive, so eager to be filled with anything and everything. I cannot wait to feel you around my dick moaning in ecstasy.”

Your legs tensed and you bucked against the table, either from Bucky’s words or Steve’s tongue you’d rather not know.

“You know something about this, doll, try as our beloved Captain might, he won’t be able to tongue-fuck you the way you need. He’s too good for your deviousness. Such a shame he’ll never know the bar I’ve set for him… How I could make you come with just my tongue if I wanted you, how much your pussy drips at the very thought of me fucking you…”

You closed your eyes and stayed in the moment: Steve’s mouth, James’ truths. You did not want them to be true, but something in you knew you couldn’t always get what you wanted. With your mind losing focus, you tossed and turned, grabbing blindly for more, more contact, more realness.

During the transition, your shoes had fallen off. Using the fortuitous happening to your advantage, your wrapped your legs around Steve’s head and neck, guiding him deeper into you. Undulating your pelvis against the moistness of his mouth, you did your best to control the wanton sounds of pleasure that leapt forth. You wanted Steve to give into your sex appeal; you knew he was too weak to resist you, especially when you laid on the seduction. And you would get what you wanted from the Captain, and you would get it now.

“Steve – uh,” you moaned in your best sultry voice, “make me come!”

Desiring to bring you to orgasm, taste your foundation upon his tongue, Steve, in earnest, began to draw your very soul from within you. The passion that flowed from your boyfriend fed into your insatiable hunger to be handled, touched, fucked, and brought to ecstasy. What may have started out as a ploy to get what you wanted, was slowly becoming more than you could handle. Not that you would ever admit that.

As if sensing that this situation was becoming too favorable to you, Bucky wrangled both of your wrists in his metal hand, allowing the other to grab your hair from the roots from pull firmly. Mewling in a medley of pleasurable anguish, you released your footing on your boyfriend and glowered angrily at the culprit of your distress.

“Don’t let her come,” countered Bucky. “She has to earn it.”

Steve Rogers was visibly disappointed, his back sagging in defeat. He eased up on eating you out, likely to assuage his own pressing need to come. You whimpered in genuine bereavement that your plan had not come to fruition. Perhaps there was a game that could be made from this.

“No, Steve,” you pleaded, an artful moan falling from your lips. “Don’t listen to him. Please...”

You felt a little bad. Steve looked trapped between a rock and a hard place, torn between pleasing you and indulging his best friend’s wishes. He withdrew from you slightly, arms still wrapped around your legs. Blue eyes begged for guidance as he stole glances from you to Bucky.

“We need something to put in her mouth to keep her quiet. Venue shift?”

Captain America carried you into the bedroom, lying you gently on the bed. The sheet crinkled softly beneath your weight, the soft, coolness absorbing your body heat with ease. Quiet hissing of conspiring drifted on the distance sound waves of the music that still played in the living room. You propped yourself up on your elbows, hair unkempt, eyes narrowing at the suspects before you.

You widened your eyes at the imagery before you: Steve Rogers stood before you to the left, one hand poised at the collar of his shirt, the other paused unfastened his pants, his hair was tousled in the most alluring manner you had ever seen him wear, his eyes were alight with a fire you had never seen before; James Buchanan Barnes stood adjacent his friend, hair slightly parted to the side and behind his ears, slacks undone yet still steady on his hips, his dress shirt was undone to his navel, displaying the little intersection where his metal arm met his shoulder, little red scars contrasted with the skin tone of chest.

And they were both. Staring. At you.

You had never felt so turned on, so vulnerable, and so ready for someone to do something.

Steve was in the midst of undoing the buttons of his shirt, his muscles flexing under the motions, his cock was still rigid in his pants, when Bucky asked: “What should with do with this eager muse of yours, Steve?”

“Whatever the lady demands.”

Amused by his friend’s inability to deny you everything you requested, Bucky shook his head. “You give her too much power.” Snapping his fingers at you, he pointed to your dress. “Off” he commanded; you followed his order. “Lie back.” You did so. “On your stomach.” Done.

“Condom?”

You whimpered your protest at the prospect of not feeling Bucky’s pride fully and shook your head. Bucky looked to his friend, who shrugged, saying: “As the lady wishes.”

Raising your hips off the bed, you dared to entice your walking fantasy to fuck you without reservation. You pushed yourself back towards him, completely aware that your boyfriend was watching. Something in you wished someone would pull your hair and smack your ass for having such poor manners. _That is to be earned_.

Noticing your wantonness and provocative antics, Bucky ran a cold hand up your spine, inquiring coyly: “What is it you want, viper?”

“Just shut up and fuck me” you growled.

“We’ll work on those manners yet.”

Without warning, Bucky entered you. So ready and willing was your cunt that he met no resistance. Slickness and pulsing was all you felt as Bucky pushed himself inside you, inch by glorious inch. You let out a long moan at the feeling of fullness that swelled within you. Breathing calmly, you tried to quell your body as it shook from pure sensation. Behind you the typically stoic soldier bit back groans.

“My, my… I haven’t even started moving yet, doll, and you’re moaning like a whore.” The amusement in Bucky’s voice bristled across your body. “Perhaps we should gag her with her something, eh, Rogers?”

Steve had his eyes shut tight, one hand down his pants, the other tight on your throat. You were lost in the intensity of his arousal as he stroked himself to you getting fucked. His face was so close to yours the fine hairs tickled your skin. His grip tightened as you saw his body tense. The groan that left his throat went straight to your ovaries, making you respond by releasing a breathy whimper yourself.

Without further prodding, Captain Rogers undid his slacks and, reaching into his underwear, released his penis from its confinement. Humming in appreciation you wagged your tongue at the manhood before you. Groans of pleasure sounded about the room and you could not be sure where they came from. Leaning ever slightly forward, you let yourself be gagged on Steve’s sizeable dick, to the rhythm Bucky set purposefully fucking you from behind.

A firm metal grip held onto the meat of your ass for leverage, so firm that it might have hurt had Bucky’s other hand not been fervently rubbing your clit in perfect timing with his thrusts. Deft hands did the most to toy with your most intimate and sensitive parts. The perfect curve of the phallus that moved within you grazed pointedly on something within you, causing the muscles in your legs to shake and tense, abating the feeling of what you knew was coming.

Taking your fucking like the good girl you were, you moaned at the sensation of your reality. Heat, warmth, and a light sheen of sweat were all over you. Fullness spread your wide in repetitive pleasure. Such a new sensation having dick hit your hilts at both ends. Tears welled up in your eyes from suppressed mewls that were choked down by the fellatio you gave, allowing your boyfriend’s penis to slide as smoothly as possible through the relaxed muscles of your throat.

The challenge was to make Captain America, the First Avenger, come before you – he had never been very good at holding out when it came to fellatio. Tonight would be no exception. Keeping the sexual adeptness of your mouth at work, you continued to tongue and mouth at Steve’s penis. He responded to everything you did beautifully: small hitches in breath, eyes rolling back in ecstasy, teeth biting at his own lips.

“Take care, Captain,” chided Bucky, “if you can’t maintain control, she will take it from you.”

Steve took his friend’s advice and took matters into his own hands, slowing removing his penis from the moistness of your mouth, and instead he began stroking himself. Positioning himself beneath you, Steve moved toward your face.

A forceful touch of lips to yours let you know the Captain was close to finishing. He bit at your mouth zealously, his tongue and lips doing the utmost to get you to moan into him; such an impassioned dance of tongues that had never come from Steve. You yielded to his aggressiveness and let him roam your mouth eagerly.

“Come in her mouth.” With no hesitation, Steven complied.

When he finished, he kept his dick in your mouth, causing you to almost choke of surprise. His hot seed filled your mouth and did your damnedest to swallow him whole, letting nothing spill out the sides of your mouth. Gulping him down, you felt his cock twitch against your tongue as it licked and tongued him clean with fervor. Steve shook as you slowly let his member drop out of your mouth. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you smiled predatorily at your boyfriend’s temporarily weakened state.

Behind you, Bucky rested his head on your shoulder. His long hair tickled your neck and you shivered. The Winter Soldier’s metallic arm ran, open-palm, over your stomach; such a welcome sensation as the temperature of the room settled. His dick was still firm; you could feel it against your lower back as you sat up. Had he finished? You had been so enthralled with Steven, you hadn’t taken note if Bucky had come or not.

“Did you - ?” you began.

Bucky shook his head and pulled off the empty condom. “Not from a lack of trying. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that my needs border on the extreme, and I didn’t want to scare you just yet.”

 _Just yet?_ Was he planning to do this again…? “Does that mean you were holding back?”

He didn’t answer you and instead redirected his attention. “Steven.”

Less dazed than a few moments ago, Captain Rogers looked up at his friend still slightly weary. “Huh?”

“She didn’t come. Ideas?”

Steve thought for a minute. “Yeah, there’s something I’ve been meaning to try…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting! Apologies for the tardiness. Been dealing with a lot lately but it's all better now. I have more on the way - with a much quicker turn-around time than this.  
> <3


	5. Chapter Five

Lying on your back, you closed your eyes. Air shifted around you as two super soldiers walked about the room preparing for their next move, but you cared not: you needed a moment to calm your senses. You may have been breathing, outwardly cogent, and alive despite your everything being afire with yearning. 

Bucky admired the satin rope in his hand, caressing it like he would a fond lover. _Like you wanted him to do to you._ “Have you ever tied her up before?” he asked Steve.

Steve responded with a timid “no” before stealing a peek at you to affirm his truth.

“Would you like me to show you?” The deep roll of Bucky’s voice held promises that you were becoming less shameful about admitting, less scared about wanting. A moan might’ve escaped your lips had you not been focusing on a very interesting shadow of something on the ceiling.  

A nod met the inquiry and you hummed in expectation.

Your eyes were hooded as Bucky grabbed you by an ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed. The power and force of his hands upon your body tickled the fine hairs on your body and you shivered involuntarily. _Dear God – was there anything this man_ didn’t _make you do involuntarily?_

“Well, well, well, what should we start with? Something intricate or something simple…” Bucky slid the rope across your thighs lightly. Your muscles flexed under expected tension despite the coolness of the soft material.

Something about the feel of the sheets, the temperature of the air, the tension in the room, impassioned you to look at Bucky in challenge.

His hair was unkempt, his cheeks were rosy, and his lips longed to be bit. before you say: “Whatever it takes, as long as you make me come.”

An audible groan slipped from your boyfriend, and you threw him a sultry smile.

A firm, metal hand grabbed your jaw. You looked into the deep eyes of Sergeant Barnes and found no amusement in them.

“You don’t call the shots here, doll. Do we have an understanding?”

Anxiety swelled in your gut. You knew what he wanted you to say, but you knew what saying it meant. _Say it, you know you want to_ , came that truthful voice from within.

Submission was an ideal fantasy of yours but now that it stared you in the face, gripped you by the jaw, and wanted to fuck you, you were uncertain. What would acquiescence mean for you? Who would you become? Were you ready for that? You fought internally for the proper response.

The moment passed as an eon of trepidation: relief did not come close to what you felt.

“Stand up and turn around,” Bucky commanded. “Hands behind your back.”

You complied without question.

“Pay attention, Captain.”

Bucky rans both hands along your arms, one warm, one cool to the touch; you weren’t sure which you wanted to lean into more. The rope was room-temperature and held no sway on your desire to lean into the hands that caressed you. Cold metal fingers that did you in at the very thought of what they could do to you toyed with the fine shape of your spine, dancing down your lower back. You bit your lip to keep yourself from melting into more of a wanton slut.

Almost ceremoniously the rope unraveled, covering your chest and arms, dangling down your back easily. The tactile corpuscles in your body pulsed under the surface of your skin, warming the air around you. You suddenly noticed how warm you were.

Bucky continued his actions, parlaying instructions along the way; deft, skilled, and talented digits make quick work of the silk rope, looping and knotting in all the best places.

Despite having your back to them, as knowing hands moved about your chest without hesitation, you mused at what Steve looked like, taking it all in. A boyish wonder always graced his face when he learned something new about this world. Those azure eyes that bore into your soul would be looking at you now, observing the curves he’d grown to familiarize himself with, the intimate details of your body that were never under-appreciated.

Bucky’s voice came into focus meaning the bonding was coming to an end.

“…to the back once more. Keep your finger in place so you know how tight it is. Then secure it…” A pull tightened the tether; you moaned at the sensation.

The fibers of the rope were firm and intentional with their embrace of your body. You relaxed your shoulders more, the tension not dragging down your back or choking your chest. Breathing was easy, your lungs welcomed it. But something about the situation had a tightness developing in your chest that you couldn’t place. Then it came to you.

An emotion that might have closely resembled jealousy bubbled to the surface. How had Bucky come to be so skilled? Had he practiced this with other women? How would they compare to you, you wondered despite yourself. Had they been prettier, fitter, _sexier_? You failed you drive those thoughts from your mind.

Guilt soon gave chase to your jealousy and you condemned the feelings coursing through you. How could you feel the pang of jealousy from a man that was never yours? Between Captain America and the Winter Solder, you had the love of one and the lust of another – jealousy was not yours to have.

Be that as it may, you mused, you would take advantage of their weaknesses. You would bring these men to their knees; you had time.

Opening your eyes, you stood firm. Relaxing into the binds, you felt your breathing slow and your heart calm. Turning back around, standing before two God-like human beings, you found yourself not the least bit self-conscious. You were instead emboldened. Jealousy be damned.

You flexed against the ropes again, testing their tightness. They had tied your arms to one another, and then secured them to your back. Rope ran over your shoulders and across your chest, flirting with your breasts but not treating them as center pieces. _Exquisite_.

Bucky had taken his dress shirt off, the resting musculature of his marred and lethal body dimly illuminated in what light there was. Your eyes were shameless in their inventory of the sergeant. Those goddamn dress pants still rested on dangerous hips. Albeit you had seen his naked glory, felt it, embodied it -  it was still not enough. You wanted to see him completely bare.

He clicked his tongue at you and turned toward his best friend. “Now that she is bound, Captain, what shall we do with our prize?”

Worrying your lips as you suppressed the desire to feel something, or _someone_ , against them.

Steve had managed to return his member to his trousers, much to your chagrin. Even though he had come, his dick was back to being rock hard, that delectable outline of manliness pressing against his pants. His eyes roved your body slowly and deliberately, as if calculating what possibilities could be held with each inch of your flesh.

You watched his face. Piercing blue eyes drifting lazily over your body, down to your toes and up to your mouth. Longing and arousal were alight in Steve’s eyes. His hand had long disappeared down his pants, stroking something you longed to entice. His tongue crept across his lips before his teeth kneaded them. Still his eyes always came back to your breasts.

“I’m gonna fuck her.”

Bucky tksed yet again and shook his head. “You give her what she wants too often, Captain. Let me show you how you put her in her place. Do you have a belt?”

You and Steve froze. The uncertainty on Steve’s face was apparent. He looked from you, to Bucky, then back to you. You reflected his look of doubt. He hesitated before fetching a belt from his dresser; Steve was slow to hand the girdle over his to best friend.

“Have you ever disciplined her before?”

You found yourself unceremoniously flipped onto your stomach. What was he going to do? Would it hurt? Or worse: _Would you like it?_

As if sensing your distress, Steve spoke up. “Bucky, I don’t know if – “

“Take note, Captain.” The virile presence of Bucky engulfed you as he filled your senses, took over your body without touching you. “If you want me to stop, your word is ‘Red’. If what I do makes you uncomfortable, your word is ‘Yellow’. And if you do not mind what I am doing, you say ‘Green’. Repeat what I said so I know you understand.”

His tone demanded obedience and you sluggishly moved your mind toward submission. You repeated his words in a mumbled haze: “Red stop, yellow slow, green good.”

All tension in your body was in anticipation, not in hesitation of the coming actions. Did this mean you were giving it, submitting, _consenting_? You knew you could stop it, halt this sexual game… But you didn’t. No words of protesting welled in the back of your throat, no impending feelings of guilt or regret burned in your chest. You wanted this, and you were going to let this happen.

_Thwack!_

You bit your lip and breathed slowly through the aftermath. The force of the strike danced against the meat of your ass in a manner so pleasing. It didn’t hurt and it didn’t sting. Instead an impressive exhilarating sensation percolated on your backside.

Silence was in the air and you felt eyes on you. Cool metal soothed the heat that began to creep to the surface of your skin. Closing your eyes you contemplated what you wanted to happen. Whether it continued, whether it ended – it was entirely up to you. You only needed to say it.

Eternity might have been close to the time your soul felt waiting for the word to pass through your lips. There would be no going back after this, there would be no slowing down. _Do it!_ your insides breathed. You only needed to say it.

_“Green.”_

Contact was spread over each expanse of flesh, the force crept up every other hit. Fiery tingles were left in the wake of the belt. Your mind raced to track when the strikes would come, when the belt would connect, and for how long the sensation would last. And then you found it.

You and James had found your rhythm. Every hit that fell prickled and dissipated in time for the next one. So consistent were the blows that you finally found your breath steady.

Exhale. _One…two…three…four…five._ Inhale. Thwack.

Another muffled sigh escaped you.

Picturing James Buchanan Barnes staring at your nakedness as he disciplined you for sexual pleasure, your boyfriend hard as a rock spectating with somber arousal, both longing to fuck you into the mattress, sent shivers down your spine.

Still in time with the rhythm, your vaginal walls flexed with arousal at the promise of something stirring against them soon. Moisture and slick seeped from within your and along your most aroused part. You tried to relax but the sensations, your own breathing, your own pulsing cunt were becoming too much to handle.

With a singular strike from Bucky, the displaced air wafted toward your own nose the scent of your true enjoyment. An overwhelming urge to close yourself off and hide away ran through your nerves and into your brain.

Then the rhythm stopped.

Straining to look over your shoulder, you saw both the Captain and the Winter Soldier kneel at the end of the bed. Your heart might’ve stopped if it wasn’t for the high level of adrenaline that was coursing through you.

Sudden fingers explored the most intimate folds of your being, messaging your secretions along your thighs, tantalizing your empty and yearning insides.

“You see that, Steve? Something tells me this is how she would prefer to be treated. Isn’t that right, doll?”

 _That goddamn bastard._ Bucky would be the one to coax verbal passions from you. He had already managed to see you tied up and belted, you would not give him for than that just yet.

Exceptionally talented hands made quick work of your pride and your legs almost buckled from beneath you.

“Isn’t that right?” came that damned question again.

Through gritted teeth you seethed: “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Unforgiving metal fingers reached deep within you without warning. You mewled like a helpless creature against the ministrations against you. _No no no no no no – not there!_ Pleasure, hot and dangerous worked its way into your clitoris, humming with excitement and readiness. You collapsed. “Ah, yes sir!”

“Very good, doll.”

Removing hands and fingers, the tingle welts soon returned, the rhythm commencing anew.

The longer it went on, the more desperate your moans became. Once small and timid sounds in your throat now seeped from your gut with intention. Why would he do this, prolong the inevitable, tease you like this? Your breathing was exasperated in the frustration of impatience.

_“Nngh, please!”_

Your legs were shaking, either from exhaustion or pure need was anyone’s guess at this point. The heat of the room drifted against your own heat and you knew your vaginal juices were tracing the musculature of your legs. Shame never even crossed your mind, only pure, unfettered need – need to be touched, need to be grabbed, need _to be fucked_.

And then you cried: _“Please somebody just fuck me!”_

You heard the sound of a zipper and a desperate exhale. “Bucky, I can’t wait anymore.”

“Very well, Captain.”

Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hair and directed you firmly to the other side of bed that had more floor space. Relinquishing, he climbed on the bed before you, sitting purposely on the edge, facing each other.

With a single motion, Bucky loosed a string and the rope confinement came tumbling off your body, cascading to the floor with a delicate thud. A smirk then immediately flashed on his face. “Careful what you do with your hands, doll.”

“Or what, James, you’ll tie me up and punish me?”

“That’s _sir_ to you, little viper.”

You returned the smirk with a challenging stare. “Not until you break me.”

Steve was immediate in his insertion of his penis into your warm. He let out a groan of relief that only added your own intense arousal. So satisfied were you to be filled that you yourself breathed in relief. Gentle lips kissed your back, as Steve’s strong hands caressed your free, handling tits.

It did not take long for the slow strokes to become rapid, short thrusts.

Fingers found their way to your clitoris and your eyes flashed open in guarded excitement. For a moment, you couldn’t tell whose they were. His fingers never missed a beat, never miss-stepped to your rhythm, and the words began: you knew who it was.

“We both know what you’re thinking… You know it doesn’t feel the same.” Passion oozed from Bucky's lips as his words struck your heart, guilt giving credence to the truth. "You may moan and gasp like a whore, but it's only for me that you do this."

Your body rippled against the determined prodding of your boyfriend, his power pushing through your body, forcing gasps of passion from your lips. You hoped and prayed Steve wasn’t listening to the guilty words of pleasure his best friend hissed into your soul.

“You will think about what I do to you, how I make you feel… How you want me _to make you feel_." A hiccup of air stuck in your throat as the heat of his words and the commotion within you responded with sexual vigor to their perpetrator.

"I see the pain you want to feel at my hands. You have begged for me to fuck you, you have longed for me to dominate you but you know I can offer you much more than that. Stop wasting our time: say what it is you want me to do."

There was no point in denying it – you knew the point of return has long sailed past.

“Choke me.”

Without pause, Bucky’s metal hand grasped your throat. Finely made metal pieces moved and organized themselves to apply perfect tension to your larynx. _Yes, yes, yes…!_

“Tighter!”

A deep, alluring sound left your lips as you heard your heartbeat in your ear, sensed it in your throat. Louder it became, deeper it pulsed. The world around you began to fade in sound and all you could feel was the hand at your throat, the dick in your pussy, and the dark desires in your gut coming to fruition.

Never-before felt hedonism was alight within you, and never again would you deny yourself this pleasure. A smile crept across your mouth. You opened your eyes and were fixed on the pair looking back at you.  

There was a darkness in Bucky’s eyes as they peered back at you. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes and a sense of menace crept out of them. That was what you wanted, that was what you longed to see. That sliver of calm between his self-control and utter-destruction.

You managed a meager breath. “Yes, just like that…”

Bucky stroked himself, cock out and dripping, before you, his eyes never breaking contact with yours.

You were rubbing yourself ever closer to completion when it happened.

“Ugh, fuck – ohmygodimgonnacome!” you hissed through your teeth. Cool wetness seeped from the center of your body as you came apart, trapped between two superhumans, who wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in ecstasy. Your hips rolled teasingly, trying to pull what you knew was inevitable out of Steve.

The tired muscles in your legs gave way, but Steve grabbed your firmly by your hips to keep you up.

Eyes of steelish blue never stopped staring at you.

Steve’s breath was shallow and he drove deep as he focused on finishing. Thrust after thrust you felt his dick pulse in time with your heartbeat inside of you. Vaginal wall sleek with orgasm provided sensation that was heady and overwhelming. “Holy shit, babe, I – “

Then you felt it: something hot and fulfilling exploded within you.

Steve was like a bonfire burning behind you when he slowed his pace. Your head was light and your breath was ragged. Vibrations of successful orgasm, ambiance of heavy breathing, and atmosphere of sex and ejaculate overwhelmed your senses.

An overpowered metallic hand still held your throat in its throes, never ceasing.

Hazy was your vision as the world started to fade, vibrant colors bleeding to grey. You were free to tell Bucky to stop, to grab his wrists and tell him to ease up but you didn’t: you wanted to see how long he’d choke you, how far he’d go.

Bucky never loosened his grip, you never asked him too. He never stopped looking at you.

“Oh shit, Buck- !”

The world went back.

\----


End file.
